Count On Me | Niam

Epilogue

"Congrats on the arrival of the second monster, you two. Let us know when we can come visit, or H'll just show up anyway."

Louis' voicemail played out over Liam's phone, eliciting a half smile from both Liam and Niall, though they didn't bother to respond or attempt to call Louis back. They were preoccupied, staring down at the snuffling bundle of blankets that had been placed in Niall's arms nearly half an hour ago.

The baby was...not cute, not conventionally adorable as Liam had been expecting, but he'd already been disillusioned by a third-time father who'd kindly told him that newborns, new newborns weren't attractive. Not in the conventional sense generally associated with babies, anyway. However, the second their son had been returned to them by a nurse, Liam's jaw had dropped and his features had taken on what seemed to be a permanent smile.

He was still perched on the edge of Niall's hospital bed, shoulder pressed against Niall's, both of them staring down at their son. Admittedly, the staring wasn't just born out of amazement, though that was a large part of it. The staring may or may not have partly been out of their struggle. The struggle of what they were going to call the slightly squirming bundle of blankets.

Zack had been taken off the table. As had Cloud. Even on the pain meds from the c-section, Niall had agreed to that. But Conner, Conner just didn't seem right either. Months of arguing had supposedly been so that they wouldn't have this problem, but damn, it was hard.

Whatever they named him, he was going to be stuck with it for at least the first eighteen years of his life. That was a lot of pressure. So much pressure.

And so they were staring.

Staring, and trying to remember if there were any other names they'd liked. And, well- it was a struggle. The theme of C-something had been revived, they both liked it, but they couldn't think of anything other than Conner. Yes, technically, there were other names out there beginning with a C, they just couldn't think of any.

Google might have been able to save them, but when you leave the house at two thirty in the morning because your boyfriend's preemptively gone into labour and they needed to have been there five minutes, remembering phones and phone chargers takes a backseat.

Hence the problem.

The name Flynn had been tossed around, but the links to Flynn Ryder were still too strong and Liam didn't quite want to be reminded of a Disney film every time he spoke to his son.

God, he had a son. He had a son. They, they had a son. A perfect little boy who almost resembled an actual person now rather than a slightly squished thing. Though even the squished little thing had been heartbreakingly...heartbreakingly everything.

If this was what it felt like now, Liam couldn't begin to imagine how Niall had felt nearly nine years ago. It might have broken him, he thought. Had he been seventeen and suddenly shown this perfect little thing, this little girl who was both of them smushed into one tiny little person, it might have broken him. He would have been remade, though. Instantly. Remade around that tiny little person who was growing up into a funny, brilliant girl, and Christ-

She was growing up. She'd once been this tiny little thing, and now she wasn't and that couldn't be allowed to continue. And he would too, just like his big sister.

Right now, though, he was snuffling and his eyelids were fluttering and Niall was murmuring at him, murmuring nonsense and Liam didn't want to think about anything else.

**

"No pressure or anything, if the hospital hasn't cleared you guys to leave, but when do you think you might be coming home? Little Miss here is dying to meet her brother, though maybe not in so many words."